


Home Is Where You Are

by oldmountainsoul



Category: Star Wars Legends: Knights of the Old Republic
Genre: Cuddling & Snuggling, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/F, Fluff and Angst, Fluff without Plot, Recovery, okay sorta plot ish
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-27
Updated: 2015-09-27
Packaged: 2018-04-23 15:00:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,422
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4881274
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/oldmountainsoul/pseuds/oldmountainsoul
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Post-canon Revastila comforting snuggles</p>
            </blockquote>





	Home Is Where You Are

**Author's Note:**

> I use Revan and Rys interchangeably in this fic, because Rys considers herself both, as a light-leaning neutral Revan. They are both parts of her. There aren't any details of graphic torture or anything like that, but there are details of dealing with the emotional aftermath of trauma. So just a warning for that. It's still 90% self-indulgent fluff though.

Rys made her way back to the women’s crew quarters as quietly as she could, freezing when she sensed movement in the dark. Tensing, she crept forward, listening for any signs of danger. When she reached the source of the disturbance, Bastila’s bunk, she relaxed. The Jedi was shivering, her brow furrowed and her knees held to her chest. Silently, the older woman padded over to her own bunk, grabbing the blanket and draping it over her lover’s form. Bastila had lost weight while she’d been in the Sith’s clutches, her frame, while always rather short was now diminutive, and her complexion had been drained of almost all its color, leaving her looking sickly and frail. Fragile, almost.   

 

She sat down on the Jedi’s bed, stroking her hair and sending a gentle stream of calm and warmth through their bond. Feeling the younger woman finally still, Rys stood up, giving Bastila’s shoulder a last reassuring squeeze as she turned to head back to her own bed. She may be Revan, former Dark Lord of the Sith, but she has always treated her lovers well. She will not press the Jedi for more unless Bastila herself asks it of her.

 

Just as she’s about to take a step forward, the younger woman has loosely caught her wrist, the softest whisper of “Please stay” escaping Bastila’s lips.

 

Rys complies, turning on her heel and returning to her seat at her side. The Jedi is wide awake, her wide gray eyes staring up at her, unsure of what to say or do now. “I’m here, love.” the older woman reassures her.

 

“I know.” Bastila smiles warmly. “I just…” she then bites her lip, considering her words for a moment. “I…” she trails off again, turning away, hesitating. Steeling herself, she opts to speak with her mind instead. _“Hold me”_ she whispers through their bond. It isn’t a request, as she’s pulling Revan down onto the bed with her that very same moment.

 

The former Sith lets out a low, soft chuckle as she lets the Jedi pull her close.

 

“You’ve already bequeathed me your only blanket. It’d be terribly rude not to share it,” Bastila murmurs, a hint of light dancing behind her eyes as she lifts the covers to accommodate the older woman.   

 

Revan chuckles again, her eyebrows raised.  “Of course. Terribly rude of you,.” she agrees, settling in beside her under the sheets. She rests on her side, the both of them facing each other,  “And I can make you much warmer than the blankets could, regardless…” she teases.

 

Bastila swallows thickly in response, her mouth suddenly bone dry. “This is true…”

 

The older woman grins, a self-satisfied smirk spreading across her face as she leans in for a quick, searing kiss, wrapping an arm around the Jedi’s waist as she gingerly pulls her close to her chest.

 

  “Darling, I’m not made of spun glass, you know. You needn’t tread so carefully around me,” Bastila murmurs, clutching Revan’s back.

 

“But you are important to me. And I will treat you as preciously as you are precious to me. Besides love, we aren’t exactly alone…” she flushed.

 

“Flatterer. That’s not what I _meant_ , and you know it!” Bastila hissed, giving the older woman’s shoulder a light swat.

 

Revan chuckled. “Careful, if we wake Mission up you’ll never hear the end of it.” 

 

“You are _insufferable_.”

 

“And insatiable,” she whispered back, waggling her eyebrows. That earned the former Sith another swat.

 

“You are _absolutely impossible_ , and I can hardly believe I love you for it,” Bastila groaned, exasperated.

 

“If it’s ever too much, or simply not the time for it, I’d stop you know,” Revan said softly, caressing the other woman’s cheek. “If you ever want to talk, or simply need me to be here, I’d stop. But if not, I think you need the laughter. The teasing. We take ourselves too seriously, you and I. A bad habit picked up from both the Sith and Jedi, I know. You’ve poured yourself into a mold too rigid, too brittle to not break. You don’t have to force yourself into it ever again.”

 

“...I appreciate that. I think,” the Jedi murmured, snuggling up closer to her. “But what am I to do with you if you are simply being a nuisance for its own sake?”

 

“Mm, you’ll just have to come up with an adequately severe punishment for me,” Rys hummed in reply.

 

“Oh yes, I’m sure I’ll think of a most severe punishment for you eventually,” Bastila chuckled, playing along. The next moment a flash of panic traveled across their bond, and she clung on to Revan as if her life depended on it.

 

“Do you want to talk about it?” she whispered, holding Bastila tighter to her as she pressed closer. The unspoken meaning of _it_ hung in the air between them, thick and ugly and dark like a thundercloud.

 

“I’m not sure if I can even put it into words. It feels like it was so long ago, though it’s only been a matter of weeks. But at the same time, I could swear to you that it was real again just now. It still feels real sometimes. This is ridiculous; I am a _Jedi_ , I shouldn’t feel this way!” the younger woman exclaimed softly.

 

“It is perfectly natural to be afraid, love. You’ve just been through an incredibly traumatizing experience. It’ll need more time. And even then, it isn’t a certain thing,” Revan consoled her.

 

“It isn’t that I don’t feel safe. ‘Nothing could make me feel safer than to be loved by you.’ I feel afraid but I know, at least conceptually, that it is not here. That what I’m afraid of is merely a shadow of the past. That it cannot, should not harm me anymore. And yet it looms over me still, great and terrible and absolutely overwhelming. But at the same time…” she paused, a pained expression crossing her face. “There is so much _guilt_ there. I have no right to wallow in my own suffering--how many people died by my hand? How many good men and women crippled by my weakness, my fall. So much death, and of my own volition, my own free will,”  Bastila said bitterly.

 

“A choice between life and death is no choice at all, Bastila. It is not your fault, it was never your fault. You are as much a victim as anyone else who suffered at Malak’s hands. Do not deny yourself even that small comfort and validation. And as for that shadow… I can’t promise you that it will ever go away, or that it will ever even be less frightening or overwhelming. But in time, the wounds will not be so fresh, and it won’t exert its hold on you for as long. It will not loom above your head in every waking moment.”

 

“...Thank you. Thank you, for always calming me so,” Bastila whispered. “Though I suppose it’s only fair since you _insist_ on infuriating me the other half of the time.”

 

“I consider it my duty to be _impossible_ , darling. How else would I keep you in love with me?” Revan grinned, pressing a kiss to the younger woman’s brow.

 

“I don’t think that’s going to be a problem in the foreseeable future, love,” Bastila laughed.

 

“I love you.”

 

“I love you, too. Will you stay here, just until morning?” she whispered hopefully.

 

“Of course. I’ll be here until you wake. But are you sure you don’t mind my doing so with everyone here?”

 

“It’s not as if they didn’t know already, and I can deal with Mission and Jolee’s unsubtle teasing later. But for now…. Goodnight, my love.”

  


* * *

 

 

The next morning, when Jolee made his rounds to rouse the crew for breakfast, he did indeed find the couple tangled together in Bastila’s bunk. The old Gray Jedi was quickly warned off an encounter by way of death glare from Revan, and the very clear telepathic message of _“Old man, if your actions cause her to wake I swear I am going to employ violence."_

_  
_

Chuckling, Jolee gestured his hands in surrender and moved to quietly rouse Mission and Juhani. The Cathar had the manners to simply ignore them and leave, and Mission quickly followed suit, though she held her hand over her mouth to stifle her giggles the entire way.

 

Rys groaned as they filed out, quietly calling after them.

 

“You’re damned lucky I like you all too much to murder you in your sleep.”

 

 

 


End file.
